“It’s already evening. We should go,” Sheldon stood up first.
If his secretary hadn’t reminded him of his schedule, he might have forgotten what day it was entirely.
Stacey glanced at him from the corner of her eye, calculating, pleased. She was thinking about how to keep him focus on her tonight—just as she had promised yesterday in the hospital.
Sheldon’s mother smiled warmly. “I hope Lizzie and Diego can visit Grandma again soon. I love having a house full of children.”
“Sure, Mom,” Stacey replied sweetly. “I’ll bring them over sometimes.”
Sheldon’s mother reached for Stacey’s hand, her voice gentle. “I’m so happy to have you and Diego in our family. Take good care of yourself during the pregnancy. Ask me anything if you need advice.”
“I will, Mom,” Stacey answered softly.
On the way back to Stacey’s apartment, Lizzie and Diego fell asleep from exhaustion, heads tilted toward each other.
The car grew quiet.
That was when Stacey spoke.
“Honey,” she said lightly, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “you’ll do to me what you did to Reba someday too, right?”
Sheldon chuckled. His hand slid onto her thigh—deliberately exposed, deliberately inviting.
“Are you jealous?” he asked lazily. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
Stacey pouted. “She has her name on your brand. But me?” She sighed. “I’m just your brand ambassador. Nothing more.”
He squeezed her thigh. “Then how about this,” he said casually. “For your next birthday, I’ll buy you a building. Name it after you.”
She turned to him, eyes lighting up. “You promise?”
He nodded.
“Then seal it,” Stacey said, leaning closer.
Sheldon kissed her without hesitation.
They finally reached the apartment lobby.
Sheldon loosened her seatbelt. “Come upstairs and prepare for tonight’s event. I should go home and—”
Stacey already knew what he was about to say.
She pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed slightly. “Honey… I feel dizzy.” Her voice softened. “These pregnancy hormones—I don’t think I can manage alone tonight.”
She leaned into him, fragile and dependent. “Will you stay with me today?”
Worry flickered across Sheldon’s face. In the end, he gave in.
He sent me a message, brief and careless—telling me to attend the event alone. The driver would pick me up.
Lizzie didn’t come home either. She stayed at Stacey’s apartment, sleeping beside Diego.
Tonight’s event was massive. Reporters swarmed for the launch of Carter Group’s newest product. Every detail had to be flawless—especially Stacey, the brand ambassador.
All preparations were done at Stacey’s apartment.
Stylists came and went. Makeup artists hovered. Dresses, jewelry, shoes—each chosen with Sheldon’s personal approval. He spared no expense, indulging her every preference.
By the time everything was ready, night had already fallen.
They left together.
Sheldon felt a trace of exhaustion, but the driver had been sent for me. So he drove alone.
Stacey’s preparations had taken far longer than planned. She kept asking for breaks, blaming discomfort, blaming hormones. In the end, they departed only minutes before the event was set to begin.
His phone rang again—his secretary, urgency sharp in her voice.
Not wanting to make a poor impression before partners and the public, Sheldon pressed harder on the accelerator.
The car sped through the night.
But trouble followed them into the car.
Lizzie and Diego began fighting over a toy. Their voices rose, sharp and relentless.
Stacey couldn’t stay quiet either. She complained nonstop, pressing a hand to her stomach, muttering about how unbearable the twins were—even before they were born.
The noise filled the car, heavy and chaotic.
It distracted Sheldon as he drove.
For a fleeting moment, he thought of me.
If it were Reba, this wouldn’t have happened.
I always prepared Lizzie carefully for events like this. For a four-year-old, a long night event meant exhaustion and tears. So I made sure she slept during the day.
Before leaving, I fed her her favorite meal and snacks. A full stomach kept her calm, kept her smiling.
I never gave Lizzie overstimulating toys. No loud sounds. No flashing lights.
I chose activity books and educational tablets—things that helped her emotions, her coordination.
That was why Sheldon once wanted many children with me. Because I knew how to care.
But fate was cruel. I could only give him Lizzie—for my entire life.
Then another thought crossed his mind.
‘That’s fine,’ he reassured himself. ‘When Stacey’s child is born, Reba will help take care of them. She loves children. She definitely will.’
Too bad, Sheldon.
By the time that thought formed, I had already left you and Lizzie behind.
His drifting mind was dragged back by the noise. Lizzie and Diego were still arguing. Stacey clutched her head, complaining about the screaming, her voice sharp, impatient.
Instead of calming the children, she joined the tantrum, her tone no calmer than theirs.
Finally, Sheldon snapped.
“Shut up, both of you!” he shouted, turning around to glare at the backseat.
He kept lecturing them, his attention fixed behind him until Stacey screamed, “Sheldon, brake!”
Too late.
The car ahead was too close to them.
Bang!
